


Stone Lover

by DarkDayDream



Category: Gargoyles (TV)
Genre: Bestiality, Breeding, Complete, F/M, Mating, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5953879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDayDream/pseuds/DarkDayDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elisa was sure that he would prefer to be with his clan right now, rather than hidden away in her apartment. But with the city currently aware of the existence of Gargoyles, taking temporary residence there had somehow seemed like a good idea at the time.</p><p>And Oh god… what a good idea it had turned out to be.</p><p>Pairing: Elisa/Bronx</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stone Lover

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Gargoyles or any characters from it.  
> As well, I make no money from this fanfic.

When it came to living in Manhattan, there were many things Elisa could learn to overlook. The rising price of gas. The endless traffic. Hell, she could even overlook the god awful price hikes her cigarettes were regularly subjected to.  

After all, it really was her own fault for falling back into such an expensive hobby. What use would complaining about the price do. No, she had learned to overlook and accept.

But by god, did she hate the weather.

The frozen months of winter, in which the world seemed to come to a standstill, roads coated in a thick sheet of black ice that cause far more trouble than she would have liked. And the scorching months of summer, the smell of hot tarmac permeating the air and clinging to clothes in a foul mixture of sweat, sunblock and burnt rubber.

And speaking on unpleasant odors…

Raising the sleeve of her coat to her face, Elisa took a hesitant sniff of the worn leather, a sigh parting her lips as the overwhelming scent of filth invaded her senses. At most it was an unpleasant smell, lingering somewhere between stale sweat and second hand smoke. Again, not the most pleasant… But far more appealing than the sun beaten population, the accumulated stench of the unwashed and the unprepared, leaving a sour aftertaste at the end of each breath.

With a lazy roll of her shoulders she shrugged off the heavy jacket, leaving it pooled in a pile beside her apartment door.

Feet away from the designated coat hooks that adorned the wall.

Knocking the door shut with the back of her heel, she trudged into the darkened confines of her apartment, foregoing the lights altogether in favor of the cool and slightly chilled atmosphere. Silently praising the invention of air conditioning. God she hated the summer.

Beneath the blanket of darkness, she skillfully slipped her way past the coffee table without so much as a stubbed toe, her fingers grazing along the leather backing of the bulky couch that sat awkwardly in front of her unused television, the poor neglected device gathering dust within her apartment.

Reaching out blindly in the darkness, she jerked the balcony curtains open, letting the dying light of the sun creep its way into her sanctuary.

A lazy shade of orange had overtaken the cloudless sky, the setting sun desperately attempting to remain high above the concrete jungle that surrounded her quaint little apartment, the creeping darkness of the night already beginning to dampen the brilliant mixture of colors that overtook the horizon. Inch by agonizing inch, the sun drifted behind the looming buildings that towered over the bustling streets, basking the sunburnt city in a welcoming blanket of silence, offering the people of Manhattan a momentary break from the sun's beating rays.

Jiggling the broken balcony lock, Elisa grumbled silently to herself, a tiny “Ha” of triumph escaping her once the door slid shrilly open, the poor thing in need of a good greasing. Another thing to remind her apartment manager of.

Stepping out from the air conditioned flat, the sticky heat of the outside world came crashing down upon her, the cold sweat upon the back of her neck slipping downwards in fat droplets, soaking into the plain black t-shirt that had once been hidden beneath her signature red jacket.

Pinching the collar of her shirt, she mopped the back of her neck with the loose material, wiping the disgusting layer of sweat from off her sun kissed flesh. _Fucking heat..._

Hesitantly she grasped the metal railing that surrounded the mostly barren balcony, her touch retreating almost instantly as the heated metal numbed her fingertips. “Seriously?” She mumbled half heartedly, rubbing the throbbing digits upon her thighs, the rough denim only serving to irritate the scalded flesh further.

With a wrist cracking shake of her numb hands; Elisa turned upon the balls of her feet, more than happy to return to the blissful cold of her apartment, her initial goal of going out upon the balcony all but forgotten. Though only briefly, of course.

For there, hidden in the blind corner of her Balcony, the sleeping form of Bronx lay lazily sprawled, his massive rock encased paws splayed out before him. It was an amazing sight to stumble upon, Elisa was certain of that. The nosy apartment handyman had already given himself quite a scare upon discovering the stone statue perched on her balcony. Though really, fixing the light in her washroom in no way should have warranted a impromptu venture onto said balcony.

Shaking the recent memory from her sun bleached brain, Elisa returned her attention to the petrified stone canid, a lopsided grin pulling at her lips.

With the city's recent attempt at renovating the destroyed clock tower the Manhattan-clan claimed as their home, the risk of even more exposure had become too great. So with heavy hearts the clan abandoned the ruins of their home, pulling up their roots and hunkering down in the cities subway tunnels, claiming ownership of a small forgotten control center.

It would have to do for a couple weeks; at least until the desire for fresh air become too great. Goliath had already mentioned the idea of perhaps moving back into their previous home, Castle Wyvern. Still, it was safer to take up temporary residence in the subway; rather than try their luck at staying with the destroyed clock tower. The last thing they needed was an underpaid worker taking a crack at one of the towers ‘statues’ in retribution for his empty bank account.

As the last rays of light vanished from the sky and the once beautiful shade of orange turned a churning black, the silence of the settling night vanished beneath the roar of the traffic and the murmur of the cities restless inhabitants. Leaning her shoulder against the sun warmed glass door, Elisa blatantly stared at the frozen beast that slept soundlessly upon her apartment balcony, eyes trailing curiously along the smooth stone ridges of his arched shoulder blades and down the harsh curve of his raised spine.

In truth, It was not often she managed to get home before Bronx had shed his stone casing. Usually by the time she managed to drag herself home, Bronx would be pacing her balcony restlessly, attempting to peer through the closed window curtains without much luck.

And as if on cue, his stone casing began to crack and fracture, thick slabs of hardened rock sliding from off the motionless beast, the deep watery grey of his thick hide peeking through the protective stone layer. Shoulders flexing as he rose, Bronx gave an uneasy shake of his burly body, casting off the last few shards of crumbling rock that still clung greedily to his freed body.

“Morning sleepy head” Elisa grinned tiredly down at the disoriented Canid, the effects of his lengthy sleep playing with his awareness, his movements slow and jerky. Giving a wide toothy yawn, Bronx gazed happily up at her, his attention quickly shifting towards the opened sliding door beside her. With a dissolving pile of stone rubble left where he had once stood, Bronx trotted his way into the darkened apartment, tail wiggling from side to side behind him.

Taking a moment to glance over his shoulder at Elisa, the newly awakened beast settling down to rest beside her fridge, gaze drifting from between Elisa and the closed fridge door and back again, tongue sliding out to wet his lips.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Closing the glass door behind her, Elisa finally flicked the lights on, letting the flickering bulb illuminate her cosy little flat. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was hers now.  Paid for in full just a couple months back, a treat to herself.

With an amazing Air Conditioner, of course.

The fridge hummed silently as it was opened, the sharp crack of ice from within the freezer interrupting the calm metallic murmur that the engine made. Rooting around the sparse inventory, she pulled out the half-eaten roasted chicken, a bright ‘50% off’ stick adorning the plastic container it had come in. The appearance of food instantly peaked Bronx’s interest, tongue lolling lazily out the side of his mouth, shoulders swaying as he wiggled in place.

“Remember what we talked about earlier. Keep those claws of yours out of my couch and I will pick up another one of these for tomorrow.” She dumped the cold chicken into an empty stainless-steel bowl that sat on the floor beside the counter, just managing to move her hand out of the way of Bronx’s eager mouth, the Canid setting upon the chicken as if he had not eaten in weeks.

Discarding the empty plastic container into the garbage bin beneath the sink, Elisa headed towards the closed door of her bedroom, more than happy to change into some comfortable night clothing and power through another chapter in her most recent harlequin romance novel. Perhaps she would finally get to see if Annabelle and Ryan had slept together during a moment of weakness.

Tossing her clothes into the hamper, Elisa settled for a comfortable pair of grey shorts and a white tank top, a sliver of flesh separating the hem of her shirt from the waist of her shorts, goosebumps dotting up along the exposed flesh. With her arms stretched high above her head, Elisa lingered within the empty confines of her bedroom, eyes slipping shut as she enjoyed the settling feeling of completion.

Of home.

Sliding her fingers through her hair, she gathered the ebony locks into a messy bun atop her head, pausing to tuck a handful of disobedient strands behind her ears. _Maybe it’s time for a haircut?...._ Shaking her thoughts free, Elisa headed back into the main living area of her little flat, flicking the bedroom lights off as she went.

Bonelessly she collapsed upon the leather couch, her head partially smothered against one of the many throw pillows that adorned its blackened body, the brightly colored mismatch pillow slips standing out awkwardly against the dark leather. With her arms wrapped around the misshapen body of a mint green throw pillow; Elisa basked in the unrecognizable floral scent that surrounded her, the pungent smell reminding her of the slips newly washed condition. There was something so incredibly satisfying about the scent of cleanliness.

Greedily she filled her lungs with the perfumed air, a hint of lavender tickling at the back of her throat.

Had the detergent been meadow scented?...Maybe….

Curling her arm around the pillow, she pulled it tightly against her throat and propped her head up enough to glance in Bronx’s direction, a grin twitching upon her lips as the canid gnawed upon a finger length chicken bone, his bowl licked clean of all other food traces.

Even if he did eat as much as a small army, at least he wasn't hard to clean up after.

Stretching out fully upon the couch, she tossed and turned, burrowing herself into the faded leather until she found a comfortable position upon her stomach, the captured pillow remaining safely beneath her chin. With a single leg hanging from off the couch and her chin resting comfortably upon the throw pillow, Elisa couldn't help the tiny sigh that slipped from her parted lips, the stress of the day seeming to melt from off her heavy shoulders.

Blindly reaching towards the paper strewn coffee table, she snatched up an old paperback novel from atop the cluttered mess, fingers knowingly flipped it open to its newest dog-eared page without much thought, her thumb smoothing the bent page corner back to its original- though now slightly crooked, position.

With her chin nestled into the throw pillow, she let herself sink into the world that reached out from the faded pages of her novel, drowning her in the charm of the tall, broody and gorgeous Mister Ryan.

The man could probably get even the straightest of men to suck his cock.  

Greedily her eyes drank up the words that unevenly crowded the pages, eyelids dipper further downwards with each teasing grin and subtle flirtation that passed between the novels main characters, the words passing by in a blur before her eyes. _Oh Ryan_... Her eyes skid further downwards, lips parting in pleasant surprise as the once casual flirting gave way into something far more tantalizing, a pale shade of crimson slipping across her face and down the arch of her neck. The page was hurriedly turned as the heated lettering continued on, her eyes widening a fraction and thighs squeezing together as the familiar burn of desire pooled into the pit of her stomach, an uncomfortable heat overtaking her.

And this time not by the weather.

Having finished with his meal, Bronx joined her upon the couch, his legs tucked beneath his body as he curled up at the end of the pillow strewn sofa, partially resting upon her feet. With his hunger sated, the beastly hound happily licked at his chops, the lack of excitement clearly not affecting his good mood. Still, Elisa had no doubt that he would prefer to be with his clan right now.

Unfortunately though, with the population currently aware of the gargoyles existence, taking temporary residence in her little apartment had somehow seemed like a good idea at the time. At least with the other clan members they had the option to take flight if caught in a situation. With Bronx’s lack of wings, his need to be carried during an escape would not do them any good. A couple weeks living in the safety of an apartment wouldn't hurt him too much. Although his slightly expanding waistline said otherwise.

Shifting from side to side, Elisa tried to drown out the demanding throb that pulsed from the apex of her thighs, her uncomfortable shifting only helping to further irritate her growing arousal.

Teeth sinking into her full bottom lip, the page was hastily turned to anew, her throat clenching as the enthralling low grade smut began to spiral out of control upon the page, the once harmless wording managing to deepen the faint blush that had settled upon her cheeks and quicken the beat of her heart until it pounded against her ribcage. _By god_ … Her eyes backtracked to the beginning of the page, rereading the scant opening paragraph that did nothing more than describe the neatly trimmed patch of hair that peeked out from the opened fly of Mister Ryan’s jeans. _Oooooh..._

The tiny roll of her hips barely registered in her own preoccupied mind, eyes glued to the smut that began to spiral out of control, overtaking the stories weak plotline with page after page of thigh clenching sex. The authors quality of writer was acceptable at best, able to keep her attention at some points, while forcing her to skim over others with a growing boredom that made her question if there was housework that needed to be done. If the author put the same amount of care into the rest of their novel as they did the mature scenes… the damn book would become a bestseller overnight.  

Thumbing to a new page, Elisa wormed a hand between her clenched thighs, fingers clasping at the loose material of her shorts. With a handful of fabric captured in her fingers, she slowly drew the material upwards, a whimper rattling around in her throat as the seams dug into the slickened flesh of her core. Each tug upwards drew the material tighter against her crotch until with a hard jerk, the cloth slipped its way between the part of her lips, her entire body arching against the firm press of rough cotton.

Her clit pulsed with elation, the tiny pearl a visible bump against the strained material of her shorts, standing out proudly from the deep cleft of her camel toe. The once foggy grey material darkened to an ash black, soaking up her seeping arousal.

The tiny lettering upon the pages no longer registered in her blurred vision, eyes glazed with muddied thoughts that swirled about in her gutter dwelling mind. The slouched spine of the age novel slipped from her fingers, sending the book clattering to the floor. And only after it had given three good bounces off the hardwood floor did it come to a weary end several feet from the couch, pages splayed open for anyone to read.

Grasping at the throw pillow with her now freed hand, Elisa whimpered sparsely at the continued tugging of her shorts, hips rolling against the taut material that was wedged so deliciously between the lips of her sex. God, she was like a horny teenager. Dry Humping her evening date… Which sadly enough, happened to be a thin piece of cloth.

God, that was sad.

She remained impressively silent, basking in the steady thrum of her growing arousal. Lips parted and breath deepening until it was a gasping whine that remained caught in her throat. Each roll of her hips accompanied by a tiny tug to the waistband of her shorts, the stinging friction rubbing raw at her clit. Pleasure wavering between exquisite and tortuous, her eyelids drooping until lashes fluttered upon high cheek bones.

Sound churned in her throat, begging for be freed and given rein over the silence that filled every corner of her apartment. But instead her teeth sunk into the pillow beneath her face, the groans of pleasure muffled as they finally spilled out. She was so close…

So close to melting. To drifting away in the waves of release that lapped at the fray of her nerves.

_Very! Just so…- fucking almost!_

She could feel the pull of her orgasm dangling within sight, so frustratingly close that wetness gathered in the corner of her clenched eyelids. Grunts lightening into whimpers and needy little whines, her hips frantic in their grinding and shorts pulled taut into the fold of her lips.

She could feel herself start to drool onto the pillowslip still clenched between her teeth, the churn of pleasure coiling itself uselessly in the pit of her stomach. Release so close, but not getting any closer. God, fuck why? Why was it always like this?

A trickle of sweat dripped its way down her neck, breath suffocatingly hot against the pillow. She was close, so close that the pleasure that had muddled her mind became tainted with frustration. The frantic grinding of her hips becoming sloppy in her haste, so…. Mother of-

“Fuuuck!” Bonelessly she collapsed as her frustration got the better of her, the promise of a much needed orgasm growing fainter with the petering of her ecstasy. The friction falling short and denying her what she so sought after. No, what she needed was more than a bit of dry humping could offer.

What she needed was to get laid.

The couch gave a tiny groan of protest with the shifting of weight, Elisa cracking an eye open to glance tiredly over her shoulder, her gaze met by a pair of smoldering onyx pearls that openly appraised her with heated curiosity. Oh, thats right...Bronx was there.

Her face burn with embarrassment, having completely forgotten about the hound that had taken up space upon the end of the couch, the low grade smut having done its job of distracting her from reality. The reality being she had just been masturbating in front of Bronx without so much as a how do you do.

The pillow slipped free from between her teeth, throat clenching and unclenching as words became wedged.

“Fuck! I’m, Sorry-” The unsurity died on her lips, treacherous gaze flickering down as a glint of crimson registered in the corner of her eyes. Lips parting around a squeaked “Ooooh”.

‘Thick’ was the only word that had manage to lodge itself in Elisa’s mind as she took in the dangerously curved cock lolling between the hounds hindlegs, the impressive length of flesh weighted down by its own fat girth.

Protruding from a slit once seamlessly hidden on his pelvis, Bronx’s cock was understandable an odd sight to see. Tip thin and tapered to a nubby point, growing steadily thicker the closer you got to the flat of his pelvis. Lengthy, curved, and cuntachingly ridged. The underside of his cock decorated in overlapping ridges that jutted out from tip to base.

“Bronx-” Risen by the hesitant murmur of his name, Bronx was upon her before another word passed her lips, a single three-toed paw pressed heavily to the base of her spine. Holding her down, immobilizing her as his snout wedged itself between her still parted thighs. Tongue sliding across the soaked material of her shorts, mopping up the wetness with broad strokes of his tongue. The roughly textured organ reawakening the thrum of pleasure that had fallen to a lingering afterthought.

“Ooooh! Wwwait!” Her plea for pause came out far more needy than she had thought possible, hands grasping tightly at the armrest hidden behind her mound of throw pillows. Knuckles white and fingers clenched, mouth falling open in silent praise. Rolling, she hadn't even noticed that her hips had started to churn on their own, grinding her down upon his lapping tongue and quietly praising it like the godsend it was. And oh god, warn a girl!

Excessive slobber soaked into her shorts and wet her thighs, each hurried rake of his tongue bringing a jolt to her hips and a gasp to her lips. Tongue wriggling and lashing at her covered core until she was reduced to a quivering mess beneath him. Eyelids clenched tightly shut and mouth agape.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god-” It was amazing how two words could convey so much. The high pitched little “Oooohh God” that begged for more.. the low guttered “Ooh Gahhhhd!” that spoke of being almost, almost there…. and the pitiful whine of “Ohh God…” that barely managed to roll from off her tongue, heavy with pained frustration. It wasn't, it wasn't..

It wasn't enough.

“Bronx! Brooonx!” Lavishing her covered core with a last broad swipe of his tongue, the pressing weight of his paw vanished off her tailbone, eyelids slivered open to watch that thick tongue slide across his lips. Face wet with a mixture of saliva and _oh god_ , her juices.

Precum oozed freely from the tapered tip of his cock, his seeping arousal dripping in thick stringy lines that puddled on the couch beneath him. Cock jerking up to slap against his belly.

Perhaps now would have been the time to think clearly… but really, there was little chance of that happening. Not with the heat burning a hole in the pit of her stomach.

Everything burned and throbbed inside of her, demanding. Demanding. Pleading to be filled, to feel that glorious stretch of a thick cock pistoning in and out of her. And _Oooh god_ did that sound perfect.

With hands numb from their clutching she release the death grip she had on the armrest, legs sliding up one at a time until she was upon her knees. Upperbody remaining flush to the couch and ass in the air, thighs spread wide.

Resting her weight on her shoulders, Elisa hooked her thumbs into the waist of her shorts and tugged them down until they wrap around her thighs, the material loose enough to cause little issue with her widely parted legs.

Despite the healthy tan that darkened her flesh, Elisa had a noticeable bikini line. Thin strips of milky white painted across her full hips and joining with the pale flesh of her untanned mound, hair kept neatly trimmed and waxed in a perfect little strip of hair that stopped just above the cleft of her folds.

Lips free from even a single stray stubble of hair.

Breathing deeply her scent, Bronx was more than prepared to once again taste the heady flavor of her cunt. But with his mouth open and tongue lolling out, a sharp little “Bronx!” of reprimand stole his gaze away from the soaked little peach before him, head tilting curiously to one side at the crimson flush veiled across Elisa’s face. Her eyes unfocused and breath heavy with each rattling breath.

“I…I want? I want your-” The words remained crammed in her throat, eyes darting from between the hounds face and his weeping cock again and again, worrying her lower lip with her teeth to the point of tasting a hint of copper.

While of lower intelligence than his clanmates, even Bronx could understand the unsure pleading of her gaze. A low, soothing little grumble echoing deep in his chest.

Heavily he settled himself atop Elisa, forelegs gripping the drip of flesh between her hips and waist, holding tightly onto her. His footing unsure as his feet sunk into couches plush cushions, body looming over her. Trapping her securely between himself and the couch, the hardness of his cock jabbing against her thigh. A reminder of what was to come.

He did not muck about in the slightest, hips held back as he blindly rutted the tip of his length against the curve of her ass. His knees bending and cock sliding wetly down one asscheek, tapered tip hooking into the cleft of her folds.

And then _Oh god_ , he was pressing forward. Sinking himself into her deeply. Inch after thickening inch making itself at home in the clenching walls of her cunt, the overlaying rigid plates on the underside of his cock rubbing exquisitely along her innerwalls.  

He felt absolutely massive inside of her. Far larger than her own dainty fingers and the lone dildo tucked away inside of her bedroom drawer, large enough to leave her feeling uncomfortable full. The tip of his cock jabbing into the closed clench of her cervix, tip designed specifically to notch itself deep inside of her, allowing each hard pound of his hips to weigh heavily against the entrance of her womb. Cock lengthy enough to stimulate the protective barrier, but not long enough to invade the molten walls of her innermost chamber.

Maintaining a hasty pace, Bronx pounded into her with short, harsh slams of his hips. Bottoming up deep inside of her in the thrust forward, and withdrawing to midlength at the draw back. The slick noise of her wetness meeting her ears, the sound growing louder as she tightened and clenched around his length, hands white-knuckled with strain.

Goosebumps dotted up along the arch of her spine and down the fleshy curves of her ass, body jerked forward with the pound of his hips. Rutting into her like a fertile bitch of his species, to be used and bred. Seeded to the point of swelling.

She wanted to call out his name in worship and praise, the entire scope of her being narrowed down in her moment of weakness. For in that moment she wasn't a proud New York Detective… she was just a woman in need. A need in the process of being satisfied by a beast that could not even speak.

An animal when compared to the other members of his clan. Simple. Lacking. A beast more controlled by urge than sense. And right now his entire being was driven to do one thing…. Mate. Mate. Mate.

If it weren't for her being embarrassingly wet, Elisa had no doubt it would have hurt having him so deep inside of her. Cunt spread wide around the girth of his curved length, a river of precum dribbling out of her and soaking into the slickened crotch of the shorts still wrapped around her thighs.

Her stomach was starting to coil again, deep in the pit. Insides tied in knots that tightened and tightened, pleasure growing from a smoldering pile of ashes and into a blazing inferno. Skin slick with a sheen of sweat and body overheating, her breath escaping in wet gasps for air.

Steadily her pleasure climbed the unreachable peak that had kept her from release, passing the stalling mark her fingers alone could not go beyond. So close that _Oooh, Oooh! Ooohh-_

_Ooooh god! Yes, Yesss!!_

Elisa outright squealed loudly with the flood of her release, toes curling against the cushions and thighs tightening together, walls squeezing down upon the cock inside of her that refused to be stilled. Bronx’s hips continuing to slap against the round of her ass, prolonging the shuddering of her orgasm to the point that colors flashed beneath her clenched eyelids and wetness seeped down the flesh of her thighs.

Elisa did not openly beg for rest, but the pitiful little whines and moans that escaped her reeked of plea. Inner walls continuing to be rubbed raw by the bottoming up of Bronx’s cock, her silent lovers thrusting becoming sloppy and without pace. Desperation egging him forward, the entire length of his cock seeming to pulse and swell inside of her, growing until Elisa’s inner walls clutched flush around him like a second skin.

Back arched like a bow drawn taut.

All at once the erratic pounding of his hips came to an abrupt stop, body tensing up and breath frozen in his lung. Every inch of swollen length buried to the root within her, tip wedged into the weakened grip of her cervix. And then, _Oooh…_ Bronx’s seed poured into her, splattering against the back of her womb and sloshing about.

A watery mixture that remained corked up inside of her, the swollen round of his cock keeping even a single drip from escaping her. His cum coating the walls of her womb and soothing the needy thrum that pulsed deep inside of her.

He came until he flooded the entirety of her womb with his cum, hips inching back with unconscious instinct, the watery torrent of his release quickly thickening to an almost solidified sludge. Sealing the entrance of her womb shut so that his cum could remain stored safely in her innermost chamber. A bodily response developed through decades of his species evolution to strengthen the odds of impregnating a female Beast Hound in heat.

And with the last of his cum drained into Elisa, Bronx slipped his softening cock free and dismounted. More than happy to once again curl up at the end of the couch and quickly clean the mess from off his cock before it vanished back into its slit. Spent and quite pleased with himself, mouth hanging open to allow his tongue to loll lazily off his lower lip. Drool oozing down a single corner of his maw.

With his heavy body no longer weighing her down, bonelessly Elisa let her knees give out beneath her. Thigh still splayed wide apart and face buried in the excessive mound of pillows. The once pouting lips of her pussy left temporarily gaping open from the hounds girth, thighs slick with a mixture of precum and juices.

Not even a drop of his cum oozing out of her, despite the impressive gush he had pumped into her. Womb inflated with his sloshing load.

_Oooh god if that wasn't exactly what I needed…_


End file.
